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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728382">Seven Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM'>EWM</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Comfortember (myfirstone!!) [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) Whump, Blood and Torture, Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Hurt MacGyver, Hurt No Comfort, Poor Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Torture, Whump, so much whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:48:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I think this might have been a reaction to all this happy stuff, I've been writing over the last few days. </p><p>Technically written with COMFORTEMBER NO 23 - EXHAUSTION in mind, it's very whump filled</p><p>Mac is forced to stay awake for seven days after he is captured.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Dalton &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Comfortember (myfirstone!!) [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Comfortember 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mac had been awake for seven days, at least that was his best guess. He’d been locked in a stone room with no windows for seven days surrounded by blood and dirt. There was a metal chair in the middle room, a chair he had grown to despise. On the first day, the masked men had dragged him inside and stripped him of his heavy coat, his boots and his knife. During the first night they had tied his hands by his hands back and his bound his legs with rope, then they had forced a set of headphones onto his ears and played loud music all through the night, so he didn’t really sleep. The thing the masked men hadn’t quite counted on was how flexible Mac was, he had forced his hands around his feet and managed to pull the headphones off his head.</p><p>In the early hours of the second day he used the headphones up to make a key and pully system to get himself out of the room. He got past the first guard, giving him a bloody nose and made it to the first gate of the compound, but then the rest of guards caught up with him. They yanked Mac back into the room and found the remains of his jerry-rigged key. Their response was to tie him to a chair and break his nose, the masked men screamed in his face, asking him the same questions over and over again. At this point Mac was so tired he couldn’t talk even if had wanted too. Instead, he held out, he didn’t say anything when he felt his nose break and blood fill his mouth, instead he simply spat the blood at his captors masked faces. On the second night they came in and ripped the sweater off him and poured water over him while he was still tied to the chair. The music blasted through the walls this time, so once again Mac didn’t sleep. He spent his night thinking and  trying to work out another way of escaping.</p><p>On the third day, they threw water on him again. Then they broke seven of his ribs and Mac coughed up more blood. Thankfully they let him out of the chair, but one of the guards stood on Mac’s foot twisting it.  Mac gritted his teeth and waited.  Breathing got harder as his damaged ribs made their presence felt. On the third night, blinding white lights were opened up in the room as well as music, so Mac spent the night desperately trying to cover his eyes and his ears. Mac’s resolve didn’t falter though, he knew Jack was looking for him, that Jack had to come for him.</p><p>On the fourth day, they dragged him up from the floor by his t-shirt, they made him stand with his hands against the wall, with his back to them.  They took batons and slammed them into his back. This time he fought them, he grabbed one of the batons and managed to hurl it at one of his captors he heard a very satisfying crack, that’s for the broken nose Mac thought savagely, he tried to grab a second, but his hand slipped. The masked men took advantage of MacGyver’s slowed reactions, they forced him back to the floor and a barrage of blows came down. Mac pulled himself into a ball, waiting for the pain to stop.</p><p>During the fourth night, the guards left him alone, but the white lights and the blaring music remained. Mac uncurled himself from his ball, inch by painful inch. He was freezing cold, he could feel himself shaking, he did his best to ignore it. He looked over his arms and his hands, there were speckles of bruises everywhere, blue, red and black covering every inch of his skin. There was a long cut on his foot now encrusted over with dried dark brown blood and his ankle had turned a horrible colour, that Mac didn’t quite know how to do describe. Mac slowly managed to get himself to stand, feeling around the room in the blinding whiteness, for something, anything to help him get out. Jack was taking too long for his liking at this stage. Mac found nothing, he couldn’t even work out where the lights were coming from or the music, he ran his hands over and over the walls, but couldn’t find a nook or crevice, no stray wiring. Mac struggled to focus on the fourth night, he kept forgetting what he was looking for and then found he had to start again. Eventually he gave up and sat down again and shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears. He recited pie backwards to distract his mind from the garish sounds all around him.</p><p>On the fifth day, they stopped the music and the lights in the morning. Mac couldn’t quite believe it, he found himself nodding off, relieved to finally have some quiet. But that didn’t last long, the masked men returned. The scraping of their boots on the floor seemed horribly loud to Mac. Having no desire to be dragged up, Mac pulled himself to his feet, the guards dragged a set of chains behind them. The screech of metal made Mac shudder.  They hooked the chains to the ceiling, then they went for Mac. He tried to fight back once again, but he couldn’t get his hands and his arms the way they were supposed to, so they overpowered him easily. Mac registered them pulling his arms up and chaining him to the wall. He felt the cold metal snapping onto his wrists and muscles in his arms straining upwards. He even registered his feet being pulled up so the edges of his toes rubbed against the stone. The batons came out again that day, the blows came all over his body, he felt each stab of pain initially, clearly, coursing through his body like an electric shock. MacGyver tried to look into the faces of these men, but he couldn’t get his eyes to clear somehow, he could just see the outlines of his captors and the flashes of light in between.  </p><p>At one point, his eyes did shut, but they slapped him awake  taunting ‘no sleep for you’. So Mac was forced to stay awake as the pain and the bruises got worse and worse. On the fifth night they unsnapped the chains and let him fall to the floor. He felt more water being poured onto him, by this time he began to shake so violently that he managed to scratch and bang his hands against the stone, cutting open his knuckles and his fingers again and again. Mac lay there shivering, in the early hours Jack visited him. Mac tried to move relieved to finally be rescued, he pushed his bruised body up ready to leave, ready to collapse onto Jack. But Dalton didn’t say anything to him, he just stared at him. Mac horrified, tried to say something, but ended up just spitting blood out while the silent Dalton continued to stare. When the soldiers opened the door in the morning, Dalton was gone, Mac shut his eyes wanting to weep. Jack had never been there at all.</p><p>On the sixth day, they stopped asking questions. They just mocked him as he lay there on the floor, they spat on him and poked him with their guns. At one-point Mac held up his hands to stop the prodding as he didn’t know how much more his ribs could take. Their response was to grab one of and stamp on it. As he felt his fingers break, Mac made the first sound he had made in six days, he screamed.</p><p>During the sixth night, the screaming continued, Mac now felt so much pain going through the various parts of his body, he thought he would go mad. He just wanted it to end, he just wanted to close his eyes and for the blackness to come. It did not, instead his tormentors switched the music on again. But by this stage one of his hands was so badly damaged that he couldn’t even lift it up properly to try and block out the noise, so he just sat there with beats pulsing in his ears.</p><p>By day seven, all the fight was gone from Mac. He didn’t try and resist when he pulled him up, he didn’t resist when they tied him to a chair again, he barely made a sound when they stretched out his wrecked hand. His eyes only registered the vaguest of shapes when they whipped out a knife. Perhaps if he’d been able to see what they were doing, he would be have been frightened, but he couldn’t. He could only see a few colours and a set of dark shapes and they were getting more and more fuzzy. He felt the pain in his face when they sliced it open, but he had run out energy and couldn’t even scream. Mac only vaguely registered a series of weird sounds at the day wore on; they sounded like a fight, but that wasn’t it, that couldn’t be that. He supposed the men could be fighting amongst themselves, but the thought that was unlikely too. His head lolled back and forth as he heard the crashes and bangs.</p><p>Eventually his captors let him out of the chair, they pushed him onto the floor, he stumbled backwards falling onto his back. He heard the door shut and then once again the music started, he shut eyes hoping the blackness would come. The lights came on as well, so Mac’s vision was simply a wall of white. As the minutes wore on, he found himself crying quietly, but as he felt his tears falling down his face mixed with the blood and the dust his cheek started to sting, so he forced himself to stop, blinking rapidly, but that only made his eyes feel more raw. He waited as the music continued to play  </p><p>The music stopped eventually, but it seemed to stop  faster than usual to Mac. He didn’t really know, he pushed himself towards the wall just to put off his captors grabbing him a little bit longer. The door opened with a crash, Mac tried to focus but still couldn’t quite see, he was so tired by this stage and opening his eyes simply hurt too much</p><p> </p><p>“Mac you in here?” Jack called squinting in the bright electric light</p><p> </p><p>“Jack? ” Mac rasped from the corner pushing himself up so he could stand.  </p><p> </p><p>Dalton was horrified, he raced forward.</p><p> </p><p>“Mac I’m here, follow my voice. I’m here.”</p><p> </p><p>The lights revealed Mac’s face was a mess of blood and black gunk. There were two hug cuts across one cheek and the other side was so bruised it had lost some of it’s shape. Mac’s arms were now covered in green and yellow bruises. Jack saw Mac desperately holding his broken fingers across his chest and was filled with a dark poisonous rage, he was going to kill all of these men.</p><p>Mac wobbled taking a few steps rasping and limping, Dalton’s Texas drawl guiding him.  But as the duo met in the middle of the room, he simply fell forward knowing Jack would catch him.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hamina + Hand + Hammering Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Since everyone was so nice about it, I wrote a second chapter! </p><p>Mac has a panic attack after being brought to hospital</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mac had been right, Jack had caught him, his boy, his kid without a moment’s hesitation. As Mac collapsed forward almost blind from the fluorescent light around him Dalton was right there. Mac hooked his one good arm around Dalton’s neck</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t tell them anything…I didn’t I swear. I didn’t break Jack. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Easy hoss, I know kid. I know you’re tough. Don’t worry, the nightmare is over,  it’s going to be okay. Jack’s here.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack had hugged him wrapping one arm around the boy’s waist and another around his head, he kept his touch light aware of how many broken bones the boy could have. Dalton registered Mac spit blood out, he didn’t react, he simply heard the wretch and the splatter across the floor then he felt Mac’s whole body collapse utterly on him. Dalton’s heart began to hammer, but it eased as he heard Mac breathing, it was rasping and painful, but it was there. He heaved Mac’s broken frame into his arms and lifted him up. Mac was absolutely limp, it terrified Jack, feeling his boy genius like a dead weight in his arms. But Dalton calmed his mind and his heart, worrying about the kid wasn’t going to help, hospital and home were the priorities now.  He lifted Mac a little more shifting, so he was closer to him, all the while watching out for any potential injuries.</p><p> </p><p>Dalton was quiet as he left the cell, his heavy boots stepping in dirt and blood as he walked out.  The soldiers followed him out trying hard not to look at the broken kid their commanding officer was cradling in his arms. It was hard to believe at this point that Mac had ever been an agent, he looked like a torture survivor, an escaped prisoner (which of course he was).  Jack continued to walk out of the compound, he registered Mac shiver as the ice cold air hit them. Dalton quickened his pace towards the helicopter. Mac turned and groaned as his body hit the relative comfort of the makeshift bed. Jack speedily pulled off his lined camo jack and wrapped around the kid, eager to provide him that was warm and not stained with blood and dirt. The men from the compound were all outside shivering as the Phoenix soldiers pointed their guns at him. Jack spoke quietly to the two doctors and nurses standing by as Mac continued to moan quietly. Extra blankets were found and wrapped around his legs and his feet. An IV was placed in his arm to try and put some nutrients in him, even sound asleep with broken fingers he gestured vaguely at the intrusion. Jack smiled at him, some things never change.</p><p> </p><p>One of the soldiers caught this moment of intimacy between them and jeered.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the matter we break your little toy?”</p><p> </p><p>Dalton’s whole body went stiff, initially he didn’t turn around. His men backed away from him, waiting for the explosion and then he span around, his side arm appearing out of nowhere, he moved towards the man at speed and then gun was pressed into the man’s head</p><p> </p><p>“You think that’s funny, you little shit?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your friend, he was funny, listening to him scream was funny”</p><p> </p><p>“You think it’s okay, torturing a kid for what? For information? For kicks?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes…we did. We took your boy and broke all his bones…come on kill me…I can see it in your eyes, you’re an animal just like us.”</p><p> </p><p>The man started to laugh and shut his eyes. A shot rang out. The man opened his eyes, shocked that he was still breathing and felt Jack’s fist make contact with his face.  Then Dalton put his gun  back in it’s holster and walked away. The gunshot had made Mac shake harder on the bed, Jack moved towards him to put a hand on his shoulder and offer him some comfort.  The kid grabbed Jack’s wrist in his sleep and refused to let go, only muttering to himself under his breath.  Dalton manoeuvred his hand around and gripped  Mac’s fingers in return, telling him he was going to be fine, that he was going home. He stepped up onto the helicopter, keeping up a steady stream of encouraging words as they flew away.  Jack hoped Mac heard him, he prayed some part of his brain was listening to him. At one point  during the flight the boy’s shaking became so violent that they Jack had to put his hand on his shoulder to calm him, even though Mac remained absolutely asleep, somehow Jack’s fingers touching his shoulder produced a kind of calm.  </p><p> </p><p>Considering the circumstances, the rest of helicopter ride was relatively calm. The problems began when they reached the hospital. They ended up landing in Finland, the medical staff insisted despite Jack’s protestations that Mac simply wasn’t well enough to travel further without some recovery time, multiple examinations by other doctors and his hand being splintered. Dalton protested, argued, even got Thornton on the phone, but she annoyingly agreed with them at least for a little while, that they should rest and recover. So Jack found himself in some tiny out of the way hospital in a tiny town – Hamina…at least he could pronounce it Jack thought cynically. By the time they arrived on the landing pad of the local medical centre Jack eased his hand out of Mac’s and shook the kid awake, desperately trying to be gentle. Mac snapped awaked immediately, his eyes darting around them. Jack explained to him that they had to stay here for a few days, Mac sighed and Jack felt a stab of guilt.</p><p> </p><p>“Look kid, I promise I’ll get you back, this little stay is just to make sure you’re well enough to travel.”</p><p> </p><p>Mac simply nodded. Jack helped him sit up in the helicopter, Jack wrapped his camo coat over him, it was still freezing cold even without the snow. He helped Mac onto his feet, to his annoyance Mac insisted he could walk on his own so Jack lept out of the copter first waiting for Mac to come out taking tiny shivering steps forwards. Unsurprisingly Mac tripped on the metal ladder from the helicopter scraping his feet on the stone below, Jack just about managed to grab him, so he didn’t fall fully and break a new bone. For a few seconds he simply stood there leaning on Jack, cradling his hand. He shook his head when Jack tried to help him up. Slowly he eased himself into a standing position again and began to walk. Dalton walked with him, hands at the ready if the boy fell again.</p><p> </p><p>A team of medical staff waited anxious as Mac moved towards them. Slowly, painfully he moved onto the bed still keeping his hand close to chest. He heaved himself onto it with a groan and then they were off. Jack trailing behind, struggling to keep up with the doctors and nurses that now surrounded MacGyver</p><p> </p><p>Mac didn’t say anything during this period, he was still so tired. He knew that all this fuss, all these medical people poking and prodding him were just something he would have to endure. He simply stared at the ceiling, barely registering the white walls racing past him. He was grateful they were inside when they cut away his jeans and t-shirt to check the rest of injures, he ignored the gasps where the extend of them were revealed. His brain had entered a peculiar in between place, he was still horribly tired, but some other part of his head was determinedly staying awake anyway.</p><p> </p><p>They brought Mac into a private ward, isolated and small, the logic being that this injured boy might want some privacy and that that doctors could do whatever work they needed without other patients gawping. Unfortunately half the medical staff had turned up to have a look at the mysterious new arrival with the bruised face and the broken hand who had turned up with no explanation. A dozen or so doctors and nurses all tried to force their way in to the room where Mac was lying down blinking. Dalton got pushed back and not wanting to cause a scene in the middle of hospital, he tried to be polite about it as he shoved and grunted his way through what felt like a sea of people. A loud crash and clatter of metal made Jack’s manners disappear, he burst in through the door to see Mac scrabbling trying to get out of bed like a frightened animal.</p><p> </p><p>Then they tried to examine his hand, up until this point he had had kept it close to him, tight, in a bloodied swollen ball near his chest. Mac was still struggling to see properly, the light of the hospital room made him panic, it reminded him too much of the burning white lights of the prison, all the figures around him were fuzzy, he couldn’t even make Jack out anymore. One of nurses tried to pry his broken away from him and he pushed her  onto the floor without even thinking, he looked around shocked  suddenly registering her sprawled on the floor</p><p> </p><p>“I‘m sorry. I don’t know what happen I’m sorry…” Mac stammered at her</p><p> </p><p>But she looked terrified and simply scurried away. When one of the doctors started to come forward, Mac felt his heart beating faster, his mouth started to go dry and he began to shake again. Mac twisted himself in the make shift bed, desperately trying to keep himself away from the doctor his hand grasped to his chest as though he would lose it. His mind was telling him, if they let him have it, he’d lose what was left of his hand, he felt like he was rasping for breath, he was going to die in this room, in this cold grey room, surrounded by people he didn’t know….he was going to die in this room all alone, Jack hadn’t come for him, after all, he was going to die all alone.</p><p> </p><p>But then Dalton emerged, pushing through the crowd of medical staff</p><p> </p><p>“Come on kid…hey I’m here, I told you, they’re just trying to make sure you’re well enough to travel”</p><p> </p><p>“Jack..IIII, they’lll take my hand, if I give it to them, they’ll take my hand, they’ll take what’s left of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Mac speech came out in horrible, short sharp breaths. Jack gestured for the doctors to go away, the main guy refused to move. Jack glared at him, but it achieved nothing. Instead he stood in front of him,  Jack placed himself directly into Mac’s line of sight. Dalton’s eyes never left Mac, he saw the sweat pouring down Mac’s face and him moving around the bed, trying to get off it and away from him or someone, an unknown someone</p><p> </p><p>“Mac…look at me,  I’m right here. Listen to my voice. I got your out of that place. This is a hospital. No one is going to hurt you here. No one”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to die..Jack..why didn’t you come for me? I’m going to die here all alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mac, try to calm yourself, I did come for you, I’m right here. I got you out of the stone walls. I swear I’m here, you’re not in that hole in anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack moved slowly forward, his hands raised at Mac. Dalton pulled off his gloves and gently placed one of his hands on Mac’s and waited. And then suddenly Mac’s eyes seemed to open and clear. He looked around properly, he registered the frightened doctors now standing outside, the one remaining man who stood stubbornly inside the room, albeit at the edge by the door. Mac’s head sank back onto the bed, his hand dropped from his chest and lay on the bedding, sore and broken. He knees sank down slowly and he started to cry scarlet with shame. Jack sat on the bed next to him and brought him in for a hug, Mac lent against his chest and continued to cry.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just as a note, I tried my best to describe a panic attack. I hope that I have not over glamourised or created a voyeuristic version of it. If I've messed it up, I apologise now, please don't take any kind of offence (none was meant)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the panic attack Dalton and Mac talk...</p><p>Written for Comfortember no.26 - JUNK FOOD there are Finnish doughnuts involved</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the initial disaster when the doctors tried to put Mac’s hand in a splint, Jack refused to leave his side. He held him a long time and let the kid cry quietly until all the exhaustion and tears were spent out and Mac was let red faced and raw but calmer. The whole ordeal perversely left Mac so tired that he was actually able to sleep. Of course he didn’t, that would have been far too sensible for MacGyver. When the tears and rasping breathing were done, Mac lay back on his pillow his hands limp by his side. Dalton didn’t say anything, he just sat with him quietly.</p><p> </p><p>When the doctors once again murmured quietly about fixing the kid’s hand he shook his head insisting they had to wait. He knew they’re might be medical risks involved waiting so long, but Mac was so scared of them, of all it, he didn’t want to risk breaking the kid’s brain for the sake of a few broken bones. But at the same time Jack also enough about Mac to realise Mac’s hands were ridiculously important to him, hell they were important to everyone, but with MacGyver it was more than that, it was something deep in Mac’s mind, in his head. His hands made him useful, his ability to fix things, to put brilliant things together made him worth it, important on some level and Dalton feared that having his hand broken like that had…it was hard to describe smashed some wall in his boy’s brain; now that his hand was broken, he wasn’t useful anymore or something. Dalton realised he would have to fix the internal damage first or at least try too before they docs would even have a chance at fixing the broken bones.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t help that Mac was still relatively green as an agent, he was brilliant, but still kind of inexperienced and the whole mission had been horrific shitstorm. He was at least in Jack’s eyes mind numbingly insecure, it drove Dalton mad and part of him didn’t know what to do, hell he wasn’t trained in any of this; bulled and baddies he could do. But all this deep personal stuff, his own brain was a mess, he really shouldn’t be trying to fix Mac’s head. All these thoughts span around in Dalton’s head while he sat next to Mac. Mac continued to stare at the ceiling and the walls not saying anything. As the hours passed and the evening came up Dalton, despite his own doubts tried his luck as therapist</p><p> </p><p>“Mac…I think maybe it’s time the docs looked at your hand.”</p><p> </p><p>Mac just shrugged at him and looked away, Jack raised an eyebrow</p><p> </p><p>“What was that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t really care, my hand is fucked either way”</p><p> </p><p>“Mac...what? How can you say that? I mean, you don’t know what will happen. Why not just let them check it out? Put it in a splint, you’ll feel better.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why? They broke my fingers, it’ll never be the same again.”</p><p> </p><p>“How can you say that? You hand looks crap I admit, but the docs should be able to fix it fine. You know for sure it won’t be, if you don’t let them”</p><p> </p><p>“My hands won’t be the same.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s true they won’t, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they won’t recover”</p><p> </p><p>“And if they don’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“If they don’t what?”</p><p> </p><p>“If my hand doesn’t recover? If the bones don’t heal, what if they don’t knit straight? What use am I then?”</p><p> </p><p>And there it was, without his hands he was of no value to anyone. Jack took a breath in and out, in and out. He really wasn’t qualified to do this, but he was all Mac had currently</p><p> </p><p>“Mac…”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean if I’m not useful, why would the Phoenix want me? If I can’t have some purpose, some point, why even bother?  Why would Nikki? Why would you?? I suppose…you could have your life back, if I’m not an agent any more, you won’t have to watch my back”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey kid, you listen to me. Firstly I will always watch out for you,  I always and I mean always watch your. And I will always want you…just around generally. You are my bomb nerd and no one else’s”</p><p> </p><p>Mac snorted</p><p> </p><p>“Kid…where’s this all coming from? I mean, look…let’s say if worse comes to the worst and your hand isn’t what it was. People will always want you, christ the Phoenix will want you, trust me. That big brain of yours is one of a kind and they will not want to lose you at all. I know for a fact that Patty really does like you, I know she doesn’t show it, but she does”</p><p> </p><p>Mac laughed, Dalton internally breathed a sigh of relief…humour…laughter that was progress</p><p> </p><p>“And Nikki? You worried she’s going to dump you the minute we hit home because you came home with a few knocks and bruises?”</p><p> </p><p>“This is more than a few knocks and bruises!” Mac snapped holding up his broken fingers</p><p> </p><p>“I agree, but you don’t give her enough credit. She’s not going to freak out….she gets what an agent’s life is.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve only been going out two months…she didn’t sign up for having to you know take care of me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll admit it’s a bit early in the relationship for her to be ministering at your bedside, but for one you ain’t in that bad of a state. I’ve seen worse, hell I’ve been worse myself… no Mac. I’m not belittling what’s happened to you, I’m just saying, you’re here, you’re alive. That’s the key bit and that’s what will matter to her. And two or three I guess to get back to the main point, that’s what couples do, that’s what partners do, they do look after each.”</p><p> </p><p>“But why would she? It’s not just about the bones, I mean last night, I freaked out, just because, look. Something snapped in that box I was in…why would Nikki…why would she care if I’m …. I don’t know broken. Why would she even want me around?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack put his head in hands, this kid’s brain was more messed up that than he thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Mac, you are not broken…yes I know you’ve got broken bones. That’s not what I meant you are not…broken. You had something really shitty happen to you and that’s that.”</p><p> </p><p>Mac sighed, still staring at the wall, Jack moved in a little close.</p><p> </p><p>“Kid…look at me, where did this idea of being useful come from? Why do you have to be useful?”</p><p> </p><p>Mac swallowed and Dalton waited patiently</p><p> </p><p>“It was…something. It’s stupid I know, my Dad always used to tell me that I should be useful, that I had lots of skills and I should you know…always be helpful. Because if we can’t be helpful then…”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow…okay”</p><p> </p><p>“And then we left I don’t know…I figured if I did what he asked…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes….”</p><p> </p><p>“He’d come back….look I know it’s really stupid, but it’s just something that’s stuck in my head. My hands all the things I build, that seemed to only be the only reason people….I don’t know noticed me…”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw kid…look” Jack said sitting close and put his hands on Mac’s shoulders “look at me.  Come on look me, show me those baby blues. Try and listen…you are brilliant, the stuff you build it’s amazing. Don’t get me wrong. No Mac let me finish. But the reason I like you, the reason you’re my friend is because…well there’s loads of reasons; you’re funny and weird and you love doing stuff…I mean you’re so passionate about everything and you love people. You’re like nice….really nice…way nicer than me…no I’m being serious Mac you are. And I’m sure Nikki will be just the same. But look you get my point right? Please tell me you’re actually hearing me.”</p><p> </p><p>Mac smiled and nodded</p><p> </p><p>“And look being helpful…that’s a good thing too. But I also think being like happy and content is important too and that’s helpful to the world you know at large…” Jack said gesturing</p><p> </p><p>Mac’s anger and broken heart melted at little at the flick of Jack’s hand. Dalton was always so sure about stuff, he seemed to have an answer for everything. Mac was so relieved he was there, he hadn’t really meant to say all that stuff, but Jack had listened patiently and let him ramble. Dalton sensing a shift in the boy’s mood went for it</p><p> </p><p>“For now though, let’s leave the wider world alone. For now, let’s go small, one step at a time. Let the doctors look at your hand and don’t think about anything else, just keep your brain on that. It would ease my worries so indulge me (Jack perhaps a little on Mac’s own desires to help here, he knew Mac wouldn’t want Dalton to worry so he pushed on that just a smidge)”  </p><p> </p><p>There was a pause and the kid looked at him again unsure</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll feel better okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Finally Mac nodded</p><p> </p><p>“Okay great, hey doc!” Dalton called over to a doctor who had been waiting outside, two nurses followed him. So began the painful process of splintering Mac’s hand . The kid stayed absolutely quiet gritting his teeth as they put his damaged fingers back in place, sewed up the cuts and splints on each of them. He sweated a little and made a determined effort to break Jack’s own fingers while it was done. But he didn’t make a sound, no screams, no swearing and he didn’t panic.<br/><br/>Eventually the process was finished and Mac relaxed with a sigh of relief as did Jack rubbing his own fingers making sure all the bits were still there. After the doctors departed Dalton commanded Mac to sleep, after some protests, the kid eventually agreed and Jack finally after what felt like a very long day had his boy safe, being taken care of and sound. As Mac snored quietly next to him Jack pulled up two chairs and settled himself next to him, to watch over him as promised.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning Mac woke after the first serious night’s sleep he had in over a week and was unsurprisingly refreshed and more functional. His mind balked at the confession from the previous night and his reaction to the splintered hand, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He blinked rapidly in the white hospital room, his damaged eyes struggling to focus, one part of his body that was working was his nose and he smelled…coffee? Not crappy hospital coffee either, beautiful roast, glorious coffee, he turned over to see Jack waving a plastic cup and a sticky looking bag in front of his face</p><p> </p><p>“Morning sleepy head” Jack said grinning</p><p> </p><p>“Hey…have you brought me presents this morning?” Mac responded yawning</p><p> </p><p>“Yes…and by you I mean us, I couldn’t sleep in those crappy chairs so I went exploring for food early and I came across this market place.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes…and I found this amazing place and everyone was so nice. I mean wow, seriously these Fins are morning people and their so nice and I got to one of the stall owners and after a lot of chat, he’s was into baseball! And anyway after a lot of chat I came with wait for it….kavi and Omenalörtsy”</p><p> </p><p>“In English for those of who have just woken up”</p><p> </p><p>“Coffee and doughnuts stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Dalton produced another coffee from Mac’s bedside table and pushed into Mac’s good hand (without a lid), the kid hesitated for a moment, Jack’s words from the previous night echoing in his brain ‘one step at time. He accepted the coffee and blew on the top, it smelled fantastic. Jack put his own coffee down and ripped open the greasy bag, they were well interesting…</p><p> </p><p>“They’re doughnuts?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know right…try ‘em they’re amazing. I ate three while I was chatting to the guy, apple and cinnamon ”</p><p> </p><p>“Give me a second….okay I only got one hand.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack laughed, there was a pause and then Mac to Dalton’s relief laughed too. Then they started to argue as coffee got passed back and forth. Mac poured coffee down his throat and burned his mouth, much to Jack’s amusement, he pushed his cup back at Jack childish hrrrmph. However Mac then heaved himself up and sat crossed leg and began to nibble</p><p> </p><p>“These are amazing…it’s deep fried apple pie”</p><p> </p><p>“I know!”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I can get Boze to replicate them when we go…home”</p><p> </p><p>“Knowing him he’d try and siracha to it”</p><p> </p><p>Mac laughed and Jack’s heart leapt internally, there he was, his boy, he was still in there, buried underneath all the broken bones and bruises.  But he was there…</p><p> </p><p>“Give me the name again…”</p><p> </p><p>“Omenalörtsy”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you’re saying, that right?”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just asking, I mean you don’t have the best luck with names sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you questioning the Jack Dalton tongue…”</p><p> </p><p>“Ewww gross”</p><p> </p><p>So the argument went on, the duo laughed and ate and passed the coffee back and forth between them. No mention was made of the previous night, Dalton was gleeful simply seeing Mac smile again. And Mac well he pushed all his worries about tomorrow and recovery out of his head for a while, he just focused on the apple, cinnamon and sugar and that was that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Does this section work? I mean is Mac pouring his heart out too fast? I see this as quite early on in his spy career so i thought he was perhaps more insecure at this point, that and James MacGyver's A+ parenting obviously...anyway thoughts appreciated??</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mac and Jack head home and Dalton pushes Mac to face his demons</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the splint got put onto Mac’s hand, things moved on relatively quickly. The doctors checked him over. Jack remained at his side, still worried about how the kid would react, but fortunately nothing happened. Mac started to sleep soundly again, well perhaps not soundly, Dalton would sometimes wake up and he’d register Mac muttering to himself and tossing his head. But he was at least sleeping. A few days passed and Mac was told he was allowed to go home. The duo were both gleeful; they both had had enough of the cold weather, although they also both acknowledged that they would miss the apple doughnuts.</p><p>It seemed Mac blinked and a car was waiting to take him back to the US and then a plane was there in a tiny airport. It all happened with incredible speed,  but then he supposed that was the power of a government agency, they could seemingly snap their fingers and make things work. Mac grimaced when he thought of his fingers, he stareed at his damaged hand and...not exactly cursed it, but he so desperately wanted things to go back to how they were before.</p><p>Despite Dalton’s encouraging and kind words, Mac was still terrified of what everyone would say. He knew Jack didn’t think he was weak and he wouldn’t abandon him, but he wasn’t sure about everyone else; Nikki, she really hadn’t signed up for any of this. She shouldn’t have to take care of an invalid, he knew wasn’t an invalid exactly and of course there were injuries far worse than his, but still, this wasn’t exactly how’d he imagined his grand romance with her. They should be dating, getting to know each other, chatting all night, all the normal things couples are supposed to do. <br/><br/>Mac didn’t say any of this to Jack as they travelled home. He stared out of the window in the car to the airport watching the buildings and greenery shoot past them and he stared out of the window of the plane at the clouds and the blue skies. Dalton watched Mac out of the corner of his eye, he knew trying to bring up what was on his boy’s mind was going to be a nightmare, ironically it would be worse now when he was feeling better. Mac’s walls such as they were up again…so everything got a little bit more complicated. Mac’s eyes had recovered so he didn’t blink so badly in the sunlight, but he was still covered in bruises and cuts and half starved and now that he could at least stand he point blank refused to let Jack help him; the scene at the hospital when they were leaving had been a mess. It was like dealing with a six-year old</p><p>“Jack…it’s fine, stop fussing. I can do it”</p><p>“Kid, please, just let me help. I can see you groaning as you try and put a sweater on.”</p><p>“No! Look I got to do this myself eventually, so why not now?”</p><p>“Because...well, forget it. I’m too tired to have this fight.”</p><p>Dalton’s understanding therapist face he admitted to himself might have slipped a little bit at that point. But he was only human. He was out of energy and frankly patience at this stage and Mac would have to learn to cope on his own and he would recover too even if Mac didn’t think so, what an annoying tangled mess. So the duo sat in stony silence on the long plane ride home.</p><p>One perk was Jack got to see Mac smile when they finally saw the LA strip, something he didn’t get tired of seven in his worst moods. Phoenix had sent them a car, but Jack who had parked his Camino there  before he left,  shooed them away and pushed Mac into the passenger seat.</p><p>Mac laughed when he heard Dalton purr as he slipped into the driver seat</p><p>“What I’m just happy to be home okay and in this beautiful car.”</p><p>“Fair enough, so are we heading to mine or yours? I can’t wait to work out how to explain this one to Bozer’</p><p>“We’re heading to mine, but I’m going to take the scenic route, so just sit and relax.”</p><p>Mac grinned and eased himself into the chair, he did his best to ignore his aches and pains and his arm in a sling. Instead he shut his eyes and let the California sunshine wash over him, Jack supressed a laugh as he heard Mac snoring quietly next to him. Dalton stopped the car an hour later and gave Mac a gentle tap</p><p>“Hey” Mac responded yawning</p><p>Jack nodded at the building behind Mac, Mac looked around and started to twitch</p><p>“Jack…look I don’t know, I can’t not right away. Please come on, can’t we just go to yours? Or mine? Jack…” Mac pleaded with him</p><p>“She’s in your head dude, no time like the present. She’ll wants to know you’re okay.”</p><p>“But I’m not…Jack. Please”</p><p>“Mac, if you’re well enough to fight with me, you’re well in to talk to her. Go open the door.”</p><p>“Jack…”</p><p>“Kid, I ain’t driving you home. So if nothing else you got to go ask for a ride.”</p><p>Mac glared at Jack, but he did get out of the car and walked up to the apartment building. He paused and then rang the bell</p><p>**</p><p>Nikki had been pacing  her apartment for the last two hours. She had heard Mac was back and was filled with relief, but when Dalton had spoken to her, he’d mentioned he was hurt and to be prepared. But hadn’t got into detail, so it really hadn’t helped overall, all her happiness and general stress were nicely tied up together. She’d given up doing any work and  just walked back and forth in her tiny living room staring at the pink walls and the photos of Mac that covered one of her boards. Then she heard the ring at the door and hurtled down the stairs. She opened the door and there he was; his face had a huge bruise across it that had gone a horrible yellow green, his cheek was cut and his nose looked broken. His arm was in a sling, and his lovely blue eyes that she had to grown to love so much had a horrible haunted look that she hadn’t seen before, but…he was home. Mac didn’t say anything to her, he just kind of gave her this half smile, she kissed him and he pulled her close. Dalton smiled as he saw the two nerds making out on the front step and quietly drove away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In my defence Jack does rescue him at the end :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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